


In Your Embrace

by fineinthemorning



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drabble Collection, Feelings, Manga Spoilers, Masochism, Multi, Rare Pairings, Sadism, Tokyo Ghoul Rare Pair Week 2015, Tokyo Ghoul: re
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 20:45:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4114378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineinthemorning/pseuds/fineinthemorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single embrace or the absence of one can change your life forever. Sometimes, we seek affection in the most unlikely of places. These are a series of drabbles centered around rare pairings as part of a week challenge. </p><p>Day 1 - mutsurie - "Cry for Judas"<br/>Day 2 - akiramon - "Get Lonely"<br/>Day 3 - arisasa - "Love, Love, Love"<br/>Day 4 - arikira - "The Young Thousands"<br/>Day 5 - tsukihide - "Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1"<br/>Day 6 - touriko - "Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1"<br/>Day 7 - seikira - "Distant Stations"<br/>Omake - arisasa - "Control"<br/>Omake - arisasa - "The Morning Ripped You Away"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. mutsurie

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter is not based off of a prompt but is based off of a lyric from a song by The Mountain Goats.  
> The only happy one is touriko. Everything else is pretty angsty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people consider this non-con, but I don't really, but um, here's a warning anyway?

“ **Some things you do just to see how bad they’ll make you feel.** ” - _The Mountain Goats "Song for Judas"_

 

Urie had kept himself as busy as possible for the last week. If he wasn’t at work, he was training at the gym, and if he wasn’t training, he was carrying out his own private investigations. At the moment, he was seated alone in the chateau living room, tablet out as he scrolled through various news sources for anything that could be ghoul related but had yet to be identified as such. The violet haired Quinx didn’t like being around the others, true, but since the Auction Raid, he was purposefully avoiding one team member in particular.

Tooru walked in from the front door then, returning from a walk in the park- something he did often on days off for reasons Urie didn’t understand. Tooru noticed Urie right away, but when their eyes met, Urie looked back down at his tablet quickly.

That one. Urie had been avoiding that particular team member since the Auction Raid. Unfortunately, he’d been avoiding Tooru a whole week which, when you live with someone, is plenty long enough for the other to notice, and judging from the way Tooru was walking over, he wouldn’t be able to escape him this time.

“Urie, hey,” the green haired Quinx managed a gentle and hopeful greeting.

Urie turned off his tablet and set it on the table, stood up, and, having already been found out, decided blatantly ignoring Mutsuki’s existence was nothing less than avoiding him, so he made to leave the living room for his bedroom upstairs.

Except Tooru wasn’t letting him by and deliberately stood in his way.

Like a child, Urie, expression blank and unchanging, tried walking around him- never meeting Tooru’s green eyes a second time.

Mutsuki’s lips formed an awkward smile, because really- was this really happening? How immature could one person be? He put out his arms so that Urie couldn’t get by, “Hey, I just wanted to talk to you a minute.” His voice was pleading, but gentle. He didn’t want to force the guy, but the way he was ignoring him was getting ridiculous.

Urie looked down at Tooru and noticed his uncomfortable and confused expression. He decided this was low, even for himself and gave up. However, instead of moving from his position, he stayed standing right in front of Tooru, clearly too close for Tooru’s comfort, and removed his headphones, “What?”

“Maybe we could sit down?” Mutsuki looked down to find the floor, but Urie was so close that he only saw the rise and fall of Urie’s clothed chest.

“I’ll stand.”

Tooru, worried that if he moved out of Urie’s way, he might actually run upstairs anyway, decided it would be best if he didn’t move then. Instead, he took a step back to create at least a little space between them, “O-okay . . .” He couldn’t let Urie intimidate him even if that was exactly what he was doing in this very moment.

An uneasy silence fell between them, and when their eyes met, Mutsuki visibly gulped. He had to do this. After what had happened at the Auction Raid, he realized that Urie was carrying around too much on his shoulders. He was trying to do too much all alone.

Kind green eyes looked up into apathetic violet hues, “At-at the auction, you- I just wanted to say that if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to you-“

In a second, Urie grabbed Mutsuki’s left wrist, hooked his left leg under the other’s right leg and caused him to fall backwards into the couch. Before Tooru could react, Urie was on top of him, straddling him as he grabbed for the other’s right wrist.

“Urie- what are you-?!” Mutsuki was pinned into the seat of the couch, visibly confused and unable to hide his fear.

Urie’s expression still hadn’t changed as he gripped Mutsuki’s wrists tighter, and, after a struggle, moved his hands above his head, “ _You think you know me_?”

Mutsuki’s eyes grew wide when Urie rocked his hips slowly against him. He couldn’t speak. He could barely struggle due to the shock he was experiencing from the situation. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks and he mentally panicked, internally reciting every plea and prayer he could that Urie wouldn’t notice.

The violet haired Quinx leaned forward . . .

“Stop!”

-And found his way inside Tooru’s mouth, kissing him hard, violently, and with every amount of hatred he could pull out from inside himself.

Fuck Mutsuki. Fuck him and his lie. Fuck him and his kindness. Fuck him and his empathy. Fuck him and the Quinx Squad. And Sasaki. Fuck all of them.

Tooru was struggling desperately to make him stop. He thrashed, even attempted to bite, but his small frame was no match for Urie. When he couldn’t even call out his kagune, he felt tears forming in his eyes. He was scared- so scared. Why was Urie doing this? How could he be so cruel? How could-

And then it all made sense. Urie was just running away again.

Tooru slowly stopped struggling, stopped gnashing, and relaxed into the kiss, even opening his mouth to invite Urie in- taking control of the kiss and moving his tongue along Urie’s tongue. As soon as the kiss had transformed into something gentle, something sweet, Urie pulled away and looked at the Quinx below him.

There were tears falling from Mutsuki’s eyes, but he didn’t look angry. Was it pity?

Urie was glaring now, eyes narrow in bitter hatred, “You are _sick_. You don’t know _shit_ about me! _You don’t know anything!_ ” He let him go and, again, before Tooru could react, he reached inside Tooru’s pants and pressed his fingers between folds of skin. Tooru grabbed his wrist, tears falling mercilessly down his cheeks.

“ _Stop. Please stop_ ,” His voice was barely audible. Mutsuki felt weak, shaking with self-hatred that could only be matched by Urie himself. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t pull Urie away. He thought he could talk to him. He thought he could show him that he wasn’t alone.

But-

But the second Urie had touched him _there_ \- the second he put his fingers _there_ , all of Tooru’s confidence, understanding, and strength disappeared.

Right, he was just a g- He was just a _weak, powerless, disgusting little_ \----

Urie stared as he watched the person he knew as Mutstuki Tooru melt away leaving only the shell of some woman he didn’t recognize. She was helpless and weak. She was _pathetic_ , and she was _alone._

His eyes shot open at the realization of what he’d done, and before either could say anything, he pulled his hand away, stood up, and walked quickly out of the room.

Mutsuki tried to gather what was left of himself, pulling his knees close and hiding his face. How could he be so weak? He couldn’t do anything for anyone! He couldn’t even do anything for himself! That’s all it took?! Urie had barely- he’d barely touched him and he-

It wasn’t worth it. Helping Urie Kuki wasn’t worth it.

Tooru had made a mistake in thinking he could have done anything to help at all. In the silence of the living room, the only sound that could be heard were muffled sobs and snuffles.

In his room, Urie spent the rest of the evening wrapped in self-hatred, pulling it close to him like the protective and warm embrace of a lover.


	2. akiramon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your support! I won't be continuing any of these as I'm rather invested in other things, but if you would like to run with any of them, just [shoot me a pm on tumblr and let me know](http://fineinthemorning.tumblr.com/). I'm cool with that. Thanks!

 

 **“And I will get lonely and gasp for air and send your name up from my lips like a signal flare.”** – _The Mountain Goats “Get Lonely”_

She was in the middle of Shibuya crossing, floating across the street like a ghost that had lost its haunting ground. Thirty seconds. She had thirty seconds to cross, and though the crowd carried her, she felt like she wasn’t moving at all. Lost in the crowd, she felt a brief moment of peace.

No control. No form. No future. No past. No identity.

“Koutarou,” she whispered.

“I’m here,” he answered, voice like liquid metal- smooth yet strong- deadly even in the way that it cut through her ears and into her mind. It was a voice so familiar despite it being so long since they’d last spoken to one another.

“I miss you,” she admitted, seeing nothing in front of her but the backs of human shaped figures- a wall of people blocking out the rest of the world or protecting her from it- one or the other.

“Hm.”

“I need you,” and her eyes were wet, the colors of her vision running together like she had just walked into a watercolor painting. She held the capacity of all other senses except for sight and touch. She could feel nothing. She could only see a world painted in colors that ran together or faded into white.

“Hm.”

“I can’t-“ and her sentence ended there, because that’s how she began every sentence- every sentence she whispered to herself only in the comfort of her own fragile heart. She can’t. Anything could come after that.

Her sense of hearing returned in the form of blaring horns and honking cars. She realized then that she’d stopped in the middle of Shibuya crossing and vehicles of all kind were ready to come crashing into her.

She was alone.

_He’s not here._

She walked quickly towards the station and pushed her way through the newly formed wall of people that were ready to cross once more. Dodging the many tourists, she made her way to the JR line, swiping her Suica card, running up the steps in her heels, joining the crowd posed as a line to flow into the train as if programmed. She stood beside the door and watched as a gray dusk took over the Tokyo sky. Tall stone buildings with black rectangles invaded her vision –one after another- his image looking out to her in every one of them.

_He’s not there._

When Akira finally made it home to her apartment, she was gasping for breath, pulling off her heels and stumbling into the small living room to find-

_No, he’s not here either._

Her knees buckled and she fell to the floor, tears falling as she suffered through the heartache she lives with daily but only once in a while spills past the capacity of what her heart can hold and out her eyes.

“Koutarou.”

She can remember his smile. His laugh. The intense look he’d get in his eyes when he was focused on a case.

“ _Koutarou._ ”

He was gone. He’d been gone for two years, but she still saw him. She saw him in crowds, and in the buildings, and in every emptiness. What to everyone else was a shadow, was to her a world where he was waiting. She saw him, sometimes, sitting across from her at the restaurant during lunch, and she saw him beside her at night in her bed.

But he was never really there. Not really.

“Koutarou, I love you.”

He had rejected her.

“I love you.”

He had pushed her away.

“I love you.”

He had left her alone.

“I love you still.”

“Koutarou.”

“Koutarou.”

“ _Koutarou._ ”

And she repeated his name from her lips like a wish, crying as she lay on the floor curled into herself in the darkness.

“I love you.”

He filled every empty space save for the one inside her heart.

“ _I love you._ ”


	3. arisasa

 

 **“Some moments last forever, but some flare out with love love love.”** – _“Love, Love, Love” – The Mountain Goats_

And Haise screamed, a sound that had been dormant for two years erupting from his lips and spilling out into the space between them. He could feel himself slipping away. He could feel himself losing. He could feel death and it was brilliantly white. Hands gripped his head and he thrashed madly, screaming and begging for what he wasn’t sure- to make it stop?

Arms wrapped around him and the gentleness in the embrace cause him to freeze- holding his breath when he did. Death would be warm. It would be delivered by the person Haise came closest to trusting.

Everything was still. No, not calm, but still. He couldn’t speak or move or breathe and when he shut his eyes there was no darkness- only a brilliant white.

Arima whispered softly into his ear, “You can’t go on like this,” and actually pressed kisses over his fingers that were white and flat against the side of Haise’s head. The god of death had come to take him, but this time, he wouldn’t fight back. He wouldn’t give everything he had, because in gaining everything back, he realized only that what he had was nothing. Endless white.

The words cured the stillness, and he gasped for air as tears filled his eyes.

“You’re-you’re going to kill me?” he whispered back, tears spilling now, because he couldn’t think of a better, more fitting way to die.

Arima’s lips moved, but not to speak. They kissed down Haise’s right hand that was still gripped tightly over his ear and down his cheek and to his lips. It was a single kiss to his lips- soft, kind, and full of mercy.

What could be more beautiful than being killed by the one who loved you enough to end your pain?

Even if that single action meant an endless pain for them?

“ _Goodbye, Haise._ ”

And their eyes met, and he knew what love looked like for the second time in his life, and he was glad that even if he once again wouldn’t be alive to cherish it, he’d at least lived long enough to recognize it. Twice.

Before he was able to thank him, the reaper performed his duty, cold metal slicing through his neck- the last image he saw nothing more and nothing less than a brilliantly beautiful warm white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest thing ever. I don't even like it, but ah- that's why it's a challenge, I guess.  
> Also, I grew up reading CLAMP. Just imagine if TG was written by CLAMP. Kinda like that. Only with more missing eyes. OTL Also, it would have ended with Arima holding Haise's decapitated head while he cried over losing him. Yeah, that's CLAMP. Accurate.


	4. arikira

 

 **“The ghosts that haunt your building have been learning how to breathe. They scan the hallways vainly searching for a sign. There must be diamonds somewhere in a place that stinks this bad. There are brighter things than diamonds coming down the line.”** – _The Mountain Goats “The Young Thousands”_

 

“He said that?” Akira asks, smiling. Her tone may have been skeptical, but her smile says she believes him. He wouldn’t put it past Sasaki to say something so incredibly ignorant. Still, one couldn’t really blame him if he couldn’t remember the last twenty years of his life.

“Yes,” and Kishou’s expression is unchanging, even after sex he appears entirely composed if not somewhat flushed.

“Hm.” She shrugged her shoulders. She had nothing else to say in response that was kind, so she said nothing. All she could really feel was jealousy at the moment even as she laid naked in a bed that wasn’t her own beside a man she didn’t really love and was only using to fill the empty spaces and keep the ghosts at bay.

“It’s not the family you wanted,” he propped his head up on one arm and watched her, his eyes calling for her attention. He didn’t really love her, either, but he didn’t dislike her company. She was a very interesting woman with compelling ideas. She was also incredibly beautiful in the way that one remembers because it lingers long after the person has left.

“No, it isn’t,” her reply was matter-of-fact. It wasn’t personal. Since she had lost Amon and Takizawa, she did her best to keep it that way.

Arima gave a small smile that unnerved her. He spoke honestly with her as well on most occasions, “I like that about you.”

“What?” and she was often asking the god of death that question, because he was never as direct as she wanted him to be, and she found it somewhat annoying. She liked men that were confident and direct and honest.

“You never spare anyone’s feelings,” he replied, mirroring her tone. He reached over and tucked blonde hair behind her ear, and she pushed his hand away.

“Is that your way of calling me a bitch?” she smirked.

Arima didn’t understand and stared blankly at her, “ . . . what?”

Akira rolled her eyes, “Of course, you’re too kind to say that. You’re like him.” She meant Sasaki. No, Kishou had nowhere near the amount of innocence that Sasaki did, but neither of them voiced their dislike for anyone- ever. If there was someone either of them didn’t like, it was unknown to her. Sasaki always tried to be as understanding as possible whereas Arima just didn’t seem to care. Well, he acted like he didn’t care; she knew he did.

“What?” Again, he was lost.

“Or he’s like you,” she tried to correct herself, thought on it another second and after a beat added, “The truth is I don’t really know what’s going on anymore.”

Arima still wasn’t sure who she meant. There were many mysteries about her, and while he wasn’t always able to catch up immediately, he did enjoy solving each one.

He did understand the second part however. “I try not to think about it,” he replied. With the entrance of Haise into his life two years ago, everything had changed. _Everything._ His whole world was different. The laws under which he operated had completely changed. He probably would never had engaged in these sorts of relations with Akira if it weren’t for Haise- not that he really understood the connection at all. He just . . . wasn’t the same person he was two years ago.

“How’s that going for you?” she asked, reaching a hand out to mimic the action he had performed earlier with her blonde hair with his white. It wasn’t exactly affectionate, but did have a bit of a double standard.

He noticed long ago that she was allowed to show affection in their- whatever this was- but he wasn’t. He never argued, “This helps.”

“It does. Doesn’t it?” and her index finger fell to his lips and traced their soft texture. It helped that he was beautiful. Curious, she asked, “ . . . What about you?”

“Hm?” he had closed his eyes. He enjoyed affection in any form even if he rarely showed it. It was, apparently, something she was allowed to know.

“Is this the _family_ you wanted?” Her hand was gone and when he opened his eyes her face was close.

“I never wanted a family.” The answer was automatic. No, not because it was rehearsed, but because it was honest. It had been something he’d thought about before. At his age, it was only natural that at one point in his life his mind had considered it. It hadn’t been an internal struggle. It felt natural- not having a family.

“Right,” and from her lips soft laughter emitted- not unkind, but certainly amused at his expense, “What could a _god_ do with family?”

“ . . .” He did not take offense, but his smile, however small it had been, was gone.

“I know you don’t like that- being called a god. What about that then? Having a family could make you human- at least in the eyes of others,” she offered.

It was ideas like these that she would share that caused him to find her so intriguing. He’d never really thought of having a family as making him more human. She was suggesting he needed to put on some sort of charade for others in order to blend in to normal society. He’d never be a part of what was _normal_. Like Haise. Haise would never find normal either. He shared his thought aloud, curious to know her response on the matter, “I wonder if Haise is thinking the same?”

She watched Arima’s expression go from kind to thoughtful and then settle on something akin to _adoration_. This expression was not unfamiliar to her. She’d seen it often and there was a clear pattern to it. “Nevermind,” and she turned over in the bed, turning her back to him. She wasn’t sure why she was annoyed. Was it jealousy again? When had she become something so bitter?

“ . . . ?” Arima once again didn’t understand what she was thinking. He knew she had mixed feelings about Haise- that was only natural, but he didn’t understand how this conversation could cause her to shut him out like this.

After a full minute, she explained in a cold tone, “It should be clear as day to _anyone_ just how _human_ you are the moment _his_ name leaves your lips.”

Arima grabbed her then, expression blank with his eyes empty, pulled her back to him, turned her over and straddled her.

She smirked up at him and rolled her hips, knowing full well that being beneath him by no means meant he had any amount of control, “I can’t tell if you’re angry or _turned on_ , Kishou.”

He was done talking, so he spread her legs unceremoniously and kissed her hard.

This helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Akira is a little bitter here. She's just had it rough and is trying to protect her heart, ok?  
> She would totally wear the pants, right?


	5. tsukihide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are the best. T-T Thank you.
> 
> So, I totally wrote this before 32 was released, so let’s assume that Tsukiyama-kun does not look freakish, and just looks like a worn out sad little ghoul puppy baby precious purple-haired little- I’m over-doing it. You get what I mean.

**“Play with matches if you think you want to play matches. Seek out the hidden places where the fire burns hot and bright. Find where the heat’s unbearable and stay there if you have to. Don’t hurt anybody on your way up to the light and stay alive. Just stay alive.”** – _The Mountain Goats  “Amy aka Gladiator 1”_

 

 

“Hey, Shuu, how’s it going today?” Kanae had let him in. He was the only human visitor aside from Chie, and the Tsukiyama family welcomed anyone that might cheer their precious heir up. If Tsukiyama never returned to his former glory, how could their family continue on and prosper? He was their only hope for immortality, so anything that could aid in his recovery was accepted. The blonde, they had decided, offered his own kind of medicine.

A weak voice came from the canopy bed, “Hide? And Tsukiyama made to get up, because he didn’t want Hide to see him like _this_. He was sloppy and pathetic and weak and _ugly_.

The blonde shushed him immediately and put up his hands and motioned for the purple-haired ghoul to relax, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Tsukiyama sat up but pulled the covers up over his head childishly as the other reached him and spoke through the oversized duvet, “I-You can’t see me like this.”

Hide smirked because Shuu was just being adorable, sat on the bed, and gently pulled the duvet down. “It’s alright,” he said gently, “We’re the same kinda, you know?” and his expression was kind and his eyes were sparkling.

Tsukiyama gasped, because he loved that expression. Every time he saw it, he knew he had in his life someone he could draw strength from- someone who represented an endless hope.

“Oui, I know,” but he also knew that Hide operated with a sort of magic. And behind that hope lurked a very real sickness as deep and as poisonous as his own. They just handled that sickness differently.

“Besides, look at how much more room we have in your bed to fuck!” and he threw himself fully into the bed and rolled around, much to Shuu’s surprise. He knew to be ready for sudden movements when Hide was around, but since he’d gotten sick, his reflexes had seriously deteriorated.

He gave a disapproving look before a small smile appeared on his thin lips, “H-Hide . . .” How had his vulgarities become so _cute_ in Shuu’s mind? Shuu wasn’t sure what had changed him more since Kaneki’s absence- his sickness or Hide.

Feet covered in bright neon socks crossed at one side of the bed and Hide propped up his head by putting his palms beneath his chin on the other side, “You’re pretty weak right now,” and his voice was teasing, “Can you even get it up?”

Shuu blushed and said nothing.

Oh, that had been too harsh. Tsukiyama was so sensitive sometimes, at times even more than _he_ had been . . . “Sorry, look, have a bite then?” Hide rolled over and sat up on his knees so that he was close to Tsukiyama and pulled on the collar of his t-shirt to reveal scar tissue ready for the taking a _second_ time. Tsukiyama would never get used to seeing the scar, no matter how many times because he knew how it’d gotten there.

“Hide.” The ghoul’s tone was that of soft condemnation.

The blonde rolled his eyes, “C’mon, I know I won’t taste as good as _he_ did, but I bet I’m still pretty delicious.” His grin turned mischievous after a beat and he leaned over Tsukiyama to peer down at him, his inviting shoulder at eye level, “I must be, because you always swallow. Don’t try to hide it.”

He wouldn’t hide it. Shuu turned his head to the side, feeling blood rush to his cheeks, “I . . . like your taste, yes . . . all more reason not to bite you.” In the state he was in now, he was _weak_. He was weak in _all_ aspects- _especially_ mentally.

Hide leaned closer, his endless brown eyes showing Shuu possibilities he could never quite grasp the image of, “You’re worried about _that_?” And Hide leaned down and kissed his forehead, which made Shuu blush even more, “You’d never kill me.”

“I’ll call Kanae.” He finally conceded. No, not to taking a bite out of his lover, but to eating, yes.

“Cool, while you’re eating, I’ll be getting ready.” Hide hopped off the bed and picked up a blue duffle bag from the floor that Tsukiyama had only just noticed.

“Getting ready, mon lapin?” Tsukiyama repeated, not understanding.

“I had a surprise for today,” and there was a sparkle in Hide’s eyes- something mischievous but also, sad?

Tsukiyama’s expression shared unspoken questions, but he said nothing. He’d let the other have his fun. They were equally ill, and they equally enjoyed licking one another’s wounds.

“I think you’ll like it,” the blonde promised, and he disappeared behind the door to Tsukiyama’s personal shower room.

<><><><><><><><> 

“Now, I know I’m taller, and my cheeks aren’t as cute and round, and well, just play along, okay? Consider it therapy.”

“Therapy?” Tsukiyama had just been given so many clues, but he wouldn’t let himself believe it. He waited on top of the new duvet. He’d had the sheets changed while he was eating and he’d freshened himself up in another room as well. He had to keep some amount of dignity, even in front of the one person who knew how fragile his ego had become.

“I’m coming out now,” and Hide’s voice was considerably softer, shy almost, a tone that Tsukiyama didn’t even know he was capable of.

“Mon Dieu . . .”

Hide, somehow timidly, closed the door behind him and took a few steps forward. “Tsukiyama-san?  Are you not feeling well?” He was dressed in the gray sweater that _he_ used to wear. Underneath was the white collared shirt and the plain tie. He was even wearing the same black jeans he’d seen Kaneki wear once. It was the exact outfit that Kaneki had worn on their first date together- where he’d told him about Rize. The only thing missing was the blue jacket. Tsukiyama stared as Hide looked down at the carpeted floor, blush tinting his cheeks. Hide had a black wig on, just the right cut- the very same length and boring style as Kaneki had worn it in. He was wearing a white medical eyepatch  . . . and he even had a gray contact in his right eye. Hide was right. He was taller, and his cheeks weren’t nearly as round enough, but this had clearly taken a considerable effort, because Tsukiyama could find few other flaws.

His eyes were wide. Right. He wanted him to play along. Play along. “That’s right, K-“ He couldn’t believe this was happening. Hide was doing this. _This._ What did he want to come out of it? Was he doing it for him? Or for himself? How could he get anything out of this? It didn’t hurt? A million questions were in the forefront of his mind, but he kept hearing Hide’s answer _‘-just play along, okay? Consider it a sort of therapy.’_

“Hm?” Hide, in the spitting image of the person Kaneki Ken used to be, looked up and took a few steps closer as if he needed to hear better.

“K-Kaneki-kun.”

“What is it? Is there anything I can do?” Hide could tell this was hard for Shuu, but if it worked, maybe it would help, if even in just a small way.

Tsukiyama, in his silk magenta pajamas, sat waiting in the bed on his knees, “Yes, just talk to me a little while?” and he motioned for . . . Kaneki to join him.

Hide moved to the bed and sat across from Shuu, cross-legged, like Kaneki had used to do when they hung out at Hide’s house in high school.

“What is it you want to talk about?”

“Have-have you read the new Takatsuki Sen novel?”

Hide nodded, a smile lighting his face that didn’t reach his ears. Of course Hide had read the new novel. He’d read all of Takatsuki Sen’s work. It was Kaneki’s favorite. Since he’d lost him, he’d done nothing but latch on to every remaining part of him he could. He’d taken in all of Ken’s belongings. He’d read all of his books; he’d even read all of his school notes, a few journals he didn’t know Ken had kept- everything . . . and more than once.

They talked about the novel a while, Hide remaining in-character and Tsukiyama slowly growing comfortable with what was happening. Eventually, Hide began to make subtle movements, leaning in closer, letting their skin touch, shyly reaching for his hand, staring at his lips as he spoke- but he made no move to kiss him.

As the minutes faded to hours and Tsukiyama realized the light that had been keeping the room warm was now absent, he reached for Hide, “Kaneki-kun, mon cher?” and embraced him gently.

“Yes?” Hide tensed a bit, not because he was unfamiliar with the contact, but because he knew Kaneki would have been were this situation real.

“I can’t . . . do this,” and Tsukiyama’s voice was soft, his lips in the black hair of the wig.

“What? Why not, Tsukiyama-san? I thought this was what you wanted?” Hide pulled out of the embrace, looked Shuu square in the eyes, and said earnestly, “ _I trust you._ ”

Those three words.

Those three words were exactly what he had needed to hear, and he felt tears form in his eyes though they did not fall. He needed his Kaneki, the one with the white hair and the stern eyes, he’d needed him to trust him.

But he never had.

Not really.

Tsukiyama put his hands on Hide’s shoulders and pushed him away gently to create distance between them, “There’s someone else.”

Hide blushed. “Wh-what?”

Shuu’s eyes were half lidded as he spoke, and Hide felt his face get hotter. Even in the state he was in, he still looked like a model- like a man that was born into this world to represent regality and beauty, “There’s someone who’s waiting for you. That loves you even more than I do. Someone who, someone who’s always loved you.”

No. Hide was not expecting this. He had never factored this into the equation at all, “Shuu-“

“You should be with him,” the ghoul whispered.

The magic that had been cast fell away, “Shuu, stop.”

“He deserves so much, especially you.”

“Shuu, please,” and Hide was shaking his head. He wasn’t ready for this kindness. They’d been together a while, sure, but they had always kept things light between them. They’d never actually-

“Nagachika Hideyoshi – please be with him, and bring him every happiness,” and Shuu kissed his forehead.

Hide pulled away and then ripped the wig and eyepatch off, but he was still wearing the one gray contact. One brown eye and one gray one stared widely back at the ghoul.

“ _Shuu._ ”

Tsukiyama didn’t understand the blonde’s strength, “You, Hide, you have suffered, you are suffering, even more than I am, but you’re still so strong that-“

Hide stops him with a kiss.

“ _Shuu._ ” And breaks it to begin unbuttoning the silk pajamas.

“Mon cher. Mon coeur,” and Tsukiyama reached to undo the zipper on his pants.

“Shuu, please take me,” and Hide’s words were hot against his ear as he pressed hands into his chest.

“Yes, anything,” Tsukiyama conceded.

“Please just-“

“Mon lapin-“

“I don’t want to think about anything. I don’t want to feel anything-”

And as the ghoul continued to rain down on him the typical terms of endearment he shared with him, as the blonde begged him to be rougher-harder-enough-

Shuu wished with all his heart that he was  . . . _enough_.

And Hide wished he could be the person . . . _to make him well again_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just . . . not sorry.


	6. touriko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ship I actually sail~!

**“Do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive. Do every stupid thing to try to drive the dark away. Let people call you crazy for the choices that you make. And stay alive. Just stay alive.”** – _The Mountain Goats “Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1”_

 

 

She grabbed her hand suddenly, and Touka was so surprised that she dropped her chopsticks, the kare-age that Yoriko had lovingly prepared falling to the table, bouncing, rolling, and falling to the floor only to continue its journey until it was stopped by the foot of another table a meter away.

“Yo-yoriko?” Touka stared into her friend’s determined and fiery eyes.

“Just stop this nonsense already. I’m tired of you making yourself sick for my sake! Good grief, Touka!” The girl was standing, leaning across the café table to reach Touka mid-bite.

“Wh-what?” She looked back in shock, terrified that her best friend was meaning what she thought she was meaning but too terrified to name it aloud. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.

The evening had started out just like any other night. Touka had closed :re down for the night and Yoriko had brought over some random food for her to try. It was usually whatever she had worked on for the day at her cooking school. Everything had been normal until _this_. This! What exactly was _this_?!

“I can’t do this anymore.” And Yoriko almost looked like she was pouting, “You either need to just get over the fact that yes, you’re a ghoul- and yeah, I don’t care, or I just can’t-” but her expression was stern again, “I can’t be around you anymore! It hurts! It’s been hurting forever to see you suffer for my sake even though I already know and just-ugh! Quit pretending you like my food! Doesn’t it taste awful?!” She looked exasperated, desperate, and almost a little annoyed.

Touka’s eyes were saucers, and immediately, she was shaking. No, her worst nightmare had come true. No, no, no, no, no! She opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t _say_ anything. She was sure that in this moment she looked absolutely _terrified_.

“Doesn’t it?!” Yoriko was angry in the way that she gets when she feels lied to or betrayed. Touka had seen it before, but she’d only seen it actually directed at her once and that was years ago. This was really -honest to god- terrifying for Touka.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but nothing came. This was the end, wasn’t it? They were over. Touka was only processing the parts that made sense to her, unable to comprehend phrases like _‘I don’t care.’_

“And it makes you sick, too- Well, doesn’t it?!” and Touka realized that Yoriko was actually on the table now as she leaned over. Thank the gods they had bought those four legged tables or she would have fallen-

“Yoriko, I’m sorry. I-“ and there were lips pressed to hers and a familiar scent in her nostrils and suddenly a body in her lap- warm thighs on top of hers and she held her breath and pulled away from the kiss.

Yorkio’s expression, now only centimeters from Touka’s face, had changed. “Why are you apologizing?” It was Yoriko’s turn to be confused, and it wasn’t the first time Touka realized that Yoriko wasn’t as self-aware as she needed to be.

This was too much to process for the ghoul, “I-I-I can’t. If you know, that means I-” _I’d have to kill you._

“I don’t care about that shit. Don’t you get it?” Yoriko’s eyes held the same strength that Touka had first fallen for the day they’d met. Yoriko was strong in a way Touka never would be.

“But Yoriko, you don’t-“

Yoriko interrupted and took the words right out of her mouth, “No, you don’t understand, Touka.”

And as Touka opened her mouth to retort, Yoriko kissed her, tongue venturing inside her mouth as she tilted her head to kiss her deeply, passionately, to show her everything she felt since words seemed to have no effect. Something was working, because Touka began to kiss back, meeting the passion, moaning slightly, drool spilling between them in their sloppy desperation.

When they finally parted, Yoriko licked at Touka’s lips before meeting her eyes again, “ _I love you._ ”

Yoriko not only knew she was a ghoul but she- Touka was sure her friend just wasn’t thinking straight, “Yoriko? But I’m a-“

Yoriko smiled, and it was so warm that Touka lost the ability to fight back, “I’ve always loved you. I’ve even known  . . . your secret, for a while now-“

Touka shook her head, “I don’t understand, but you-“

Yoriko adjusted herself in Touka’s lap and linked her arms around her neck, “But I love you still. And you love me, too.”

Absolute confidence met complete fear.

“I-“ Touka had been scared many times in her life, but not like this.

“You do,” Yoriko responded for her.

“I-I mean that I-“ and Touka’s face was crimson, because in all these years, she was only just understanding that Yoriko knew her better than she even knew herself.

“It’s okay, Touka,” and she kissed her once on the lips, “It’s okay to be happy.”


	7. seikira

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like these two.

**“I waited for you, but I never told you where I was. It was you who taught me how to write this kind of equations.”** – _The Mountain Goats “Distant Stations”_

 

 

“Takizawa . . . ?” she stepped out onto her small balcony somehow unafraid, because a figure clothed in black was sitting there on the ledge so many stories up, legs kicking back and forth playfully like a little girl.

He didn’t look at her, but he hummed, and he spoke in the sing-song tone he had adapted when he’d come to the realization that he had no control over anything, “Mado-san, call me Seidou, okay?”

He wanted that, and there was no harm in asking that. Actually, there was no harm in anything at all. He knew that now.

The rational voice, the one that governed nearly every action she made, was screaming at her to grab her quinque, but she, in a rare moment of insanity, refused, “Seidou,” she tried, “Then, call me Akira?” she offered in return.

“Really?” He almost looked at her, because he’d never expected that, and he wanted to see her lips form his name- the name that no one alive called him by anymore, but he didn’t. He had no control over anything, and there was no harm in anything- but he still . . . He still didn’t like her to see him. Some things still took strength he hadn’t quite discovered yet.

“Yes,” and, as she continued to beat down her rationale, she slid closed the balcony door of her apartment and leaned up against the ledge. Outwardly, she had relaxed. Inwardly, she was struggling to keep herself sane or insane; she wasn’t sure at the moment.

Maybe this was just a strange dream.

The half-ghoul smiled in a way he had never before. It wasn’t kind in the way a human could smile. It wasn’t full of malice in the way a ghoul could smile. It was something in-between- brilliant, happy, and bitter, “Wonderful, A-kiii-rah.” And he laughed. They’d known each other so long, but only now did he no longer feel like he was staring at her back.

“Why are you here?” she asked carefully. It was May, and the rainy season was going to start early. It had been nearly half a year since she had last seen him in that brief moment in the auditorium.

“A rare moment of clarity! Clarity comes and goes, you know?” And he laughed again, because he knew that she didn’t know, and somehow, that was incredibly funny or maybe even ironic; it was hard to tell, really. When she said nothing, he kept talking, “I wonder if this is the first time you’ve looked at me and only seen my profile.”

She didn’t understand. This wasn’t the Takizawa she knew, no, but she could see pieces of him in his profile, in his ever changing tone, and in his expressions. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t scared. Maybe that’s why she had sealed off her only escape. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t reached for her quinque. She was losing her mind.

“I came here to warn you, actually,” he admitted, standing then on the ledge. He took a quick second to balance, and she could tell he’d lost all fear, because he was smiling as he steadied himself on the seventh floor balcony railing of her modest Tokyo apartment. He walked closer to her, and she noticed the way the moonlight made his fresh white hair glow. His eyes were that same hazel color. His appearance was equally chilling as it was beautiful. A ghost. She was speaking with a ghost, so it had to be a dream.

She looked up at him, and he looked down at her.

“Of what?” her heart wasn’t even beating quickly. She wasn’t sweating. There was an S-rated ghoul inches from her, and she wasn’t even lifting a finger to create any sort of distance.

“We- ah- hahaha” and when he laughed, she thought briefly that he looked as crazy as she felt, “-Aogiri Tree will be attacking headquarters to-mor-row. At some point,” and he saluted her as he had in the past before he’d _left_.

And that action made her look away. She needed to tell them. She needed to tell Arima and Washuu and a million others. She needed to warn them. Tomorrow? What time was it now?

She did nothing.

Could insanity be peaceful?

“Headquarters? In the first ward?” she asked.

“In every ward. Every. Single. One.”

“What? But that’s impossible!” she shouted up at him, not expecting herself to react like that. Still, she had never expected to hear _that_ , either. Had Aogiri’s numbers tripled? Quadrupled? What made them think they could win?

Was he lying?

He dropped down suddenly and was standing next to her, facing her. His next words sounded so human. “Nothing’s impossible, Akira.”

She looked at his sunken eyes, his brittle hair, his thin cheeks, his chapped lips, his telling expression. As she studied him, he added, “Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.”

She turned to look away. She couldn’t take it, “Well, thank you.”

But, Seidou wouldn’t let her look away. No, she didn’t get to. He’d shown her what he was now, and she wasn’t allowed to look away. She didn’t struggle or even flinch when he grabbed her arms and turned her body towards her, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Don’t thank me.” He leaned in closer, and she realized that she’d never noticed how empty his hazel eyes had been. Had they always been so empty? “You’re going to die, you know? Instead of thanking me, quit.”

“I’ll never quit,” she responded quickly, “I can’t do that.”

“You can do annnnything,” he responded, empty eyes somehow thoughtful. He didn’t let her go, but he didn’t pull her closer. He just held her there, firmly. He wouldn’t let her go. He wouldn’t.

“Then I’ll win,” she surprised herself with how matter-of-fact her answer had been.

And Takizawa smiled, genuinely, the smile of someone in love. And Akira watched. She watched as that smile slowly began to fade, lips contracting, eyelids falling, until it was gone. What was left was her own reflection- her own spitting image- loneliness.

And he let her go then, pushed her away causing her to hit the wall behind her, but not hard. She knew he could have hurt her if he really wanted to, but he didn’t.

He laughed then, and it was a sound that made her sick. He laughed endlessly, gripping his sides as if in pain from how hilarious everything was. Too funny. Too fucking funny. It felt like an hour had passed, but really only seconds had transpired.

“That’s Mado for you!” and he laughed some more.

She knew he was gone.

He laughed more.

He knew it, too.

“Bye-bye for now!” and he fell over the balcony as he laughed. She didn’t bother to watch him go. She knew he’d be fine. Seidou Takizawa was a ghoul, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the rare pair challenge was fun! I hope you guys enjoyed them! Again, I won't be continuing any of them, but you're welcome to if you like. Just [please let me know by dropping something in my ask box](http://fineinthemorning.tumblr.com/).  
> Thank you all very much!


	8. arisasa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know where else to publish this, so I stuck it here? This is super AU. I see Arima as a Papa, but I finally got some Arisasa out after a request? One I barely filled, 'cause this is not fluffy? IDK? OTL This one is not based off of any Mountain Goats at alllll~

They had just finished a twelve hour operation in the 24th Ward with the S3 and the S1 squad. Though Sasaki was a member of neither, Arima had him come along to improve his skills as well as his . . . control. Much to the dismay of a few participating in the operation, Sasaki Haise, someone only of Rank 2, joined the various Special Class and Associate Special Class investigators on the clean out of part of the ward.

And when the half-ghoul investigator lost himself, not once, but twice, it wasn’t Arima Kishou who was admonished for it throughout the divisions of the CCG.

“Sasaki can’t be trusted.”

“Why are they even bothering with this project?”

“Talk about a failed experiment.”

“He doesn’t even really deserve a second chance, and it’s clear when his ghoul side comes out.”

“He’s a monster.”

“A monster.”

“ _He’s just like them._ ”

 

**XXX**

 

“Arima-san,  _I’m sorry_.”

That night Haise bowed his head not as part of the apology, but out of shame. His mentor had spent months training him, building his strength, teaching him methods not only of fighting the demons that walked the streets of Tokyo but his own inner demons as well.

And Haise had  _failed_.

The death god stood in front of him and did nothing to show in his expressions or movements what he felt. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again.

Haise didn’t look up, but he waited. He waited for the crippling words, the severe punishment, and the resulting enduring memory that would haunt him always that he could add to the endless list of reasons  _why he shouldn’t lose control, why he should never give in, why he couldn’t depend on the monster inside him_.

“ _Not yet_ ,” Arima whispered words that sounded too tender to hold any comfort what-so-ever.

And Haise understood the words immediately. Nothing else needed to be said.

Haise suffered. He suffered daily with a war inside himself- one that could be seen as a frightful reality only on the battlefield. Arima knew this best, because Haise was  _his_. The others would question his patience, his persistence, and, most of all, his small acts of kindness that spoke volumes and spread secrets throughout the CCG. But, the investigator’s attention was always on Sasaki. While he paid respect to the perspectives of others, he valued, more than anything, the knowledge of  _who_  and  _what_  Sasaki really was, and even more-so, the fact that  _he was the only one who knew him_.

Haise finally looked up, and, despite living with Arima the time that he had, his eyes still grew wide with surprise at the show of mercy. He’d been given so much time. Arima had put so much effort into him. He’d been  _trusted_  and he failed.

Maybe they were right. In the end, he really was just like _them. A monster._

Arima could see Haise’s thoughts in his eyes. He could read him as he could the books he enjoyed, and he found that reading them there within the clouded gray pages of his irises was equally enjoyable. Sasaki Haise was not human, but what beauty was there, really, in being human?

The elder reached a hand to lift the other’s chin while he used his other to pull him closer. Before Sasaki could react, Arima leaned down and pressed his lips to his.

 _Need_ parted Sasaki’s lips and he turned his head to boldly invite Arima further inside him. Arima obliged with equal zeal and pressed his tongue along Sasaki’s, quickly taming the passion of the youth with his own candid dominance. He continued the kiss as he lifted the smaller male to lie him down on the cream white couch in the living room of the apartment they shared. He broke the kiss so briefly that Sasaki was barely able to breathe by the time Arima was on top of him, legs on either sides of his hips, one hand fisting his white hair while the other pressed into the fabric of his shirt as an attempt to feel the curves of his defined abs and the warmth of his skin.

It was when Arima’s hand continued to press down his abs and around his hips to the small of his back to finally grab at his ass that Haise moaned desperately with pleasure and wont. The death god let go suddenly and sat up, expression blank as he observed the state of his charge.

_His. His Haise._

The half-ghoul had been unraveled. Having never realized how  _desperate_  he was for Arima’s  _touch_  and  _affection_ , the second he’d been given an inch, he’d grabbed frantically for a mile. Though his clothing lay on his body without any hint of their prior embrace, his lips had taken color and they parted, red and wet as he panted with desire for the insatiable need he’d never dare name aloud.  Sasaki hadn’t yet realized his eyes were mismatched now, his black and red kakugan glaring at his mentor as a reminder that his very existence represented a perpetual chaos.

When Arima raised a hand towards Haise, the younger man flinched. Arima understood the reaction, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, it even angered him somewhat. Didn’t Haise understand that anything he did to him was out of . . .

Sasaki tried to will the kakugan away. He handn’t even felt it appear, too caught up in his sexual desires, his mind instantly fantasizing about Arima kissing him, marking him, sucking him, fucking him, taking him and making him his.

Haise knew very well who he  _belonged_  to. Arima reached his right hand further to cup Sasaki’s left cheek, and his thumb moved gently along the now protruding veins beneath the half-ghoul’s left eye. The yonger investigator held his breath, not daring to allow himself to enjoy the affection. He was sure that the moment he did he’d-

And there it was. His punishment.

Arima pressed his right thumb into Sasaki’s black eye.

_Harder. Harder._

“Haise, we won’t continue.”

Sasaki did everything he could not to whimper.

_Harder. Harder._

“Not until you can control-”

Tears began to fall from his right eye as blood leaked timidly from his left.

_Harder. Harder._

“ _Yourself._ ” 

Haise opened his mouth to scream just as there was a final  _push_  before the pressure disappeared.

He bowed his head immediately hiding his face as his hands went over his bleeding eye to prevent the red liquid from staining the couch.

Arima stood and took a tissue from the coffee table to wipe at the blood on his right hand.

“You  _belong_ to me, Haise. Don’t disappoint me.”

Haise made no sound. He didn’t move. He didn’t breath.

_Not yet._

This was Arima’s mercy.

Haise was grateful for it.


	9. Behind My Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For arisasa week~

 

“You remember.” No, it isn’t a question. He feels the half-ghoul go tense in his embrace as the water continues to trickle down around them.

“How did you know?” Kaneki had been so careful, but he knew he wasn’t going to fool them forever- especially Kishou. He’d been avoiding making love to Arima for two months, and their visits with one another had been sparse. He had made the excuse of having been reassigned to work with Ui and taking on new cases, but it was all bullshit. He just couldn’t be around the reaper. A part of him still loved him and desperately needed him, but a part of him shook with rage in his presence as well.

The part that felt safe with him had won out in the end. He’d rationalized that he’d done all he could in the situation anyway; he’d done what he could manage while still remaining with the CCG. There was a limit- a ceiling that he’d hit. He could not accomplish anything without passing through it, and for him, it was impossible. To make any more progress, he’d have to have an ally in someone with more power. So, he had resigned to have one last evening with the man he’d come to love in his two year sleep. His sweet dream would end completely after this night, but as it should. He couldn’t go on dreaming forever. He’d never truly found happiness with Kishou, and besides, wasn’t it even better if he left to thereafter be mourned over?

At least this way, he’d know Arima truly loved him if he regretted their parting.

“It was different.” Arima meant the sex. They’d finished minutes prior, their last union, and now Arima regretted having called him out on regaining his memories at all. The truth was that he didn’t want to stop dreaming, either, but he had no choice but to respect his lover’s wishes.

“Are you going to kill me?” He’s unfazed. Arima’s embrace tells him the truth. He’s sure he can fight CCG’s reaper now and win. He was now the One-Eyed King or _something_ like that. He’s strong now- much more than the first time, but he knew it wouldn’t come to that. Arima truly loves him, and that just makes leaving that much more satisfying.

“I was instructed to do so when the day came.” Arima let go and turned Sasaki around so that his back was straight against the tile.

“Then?” Kaneki released his kakugan, but only that; it was more symbolic than anything else. He was ready to fight if he had to, but he truthfully never thought-

“ _Never._ ” Arima placed his hand beneath the half-ghoul’s chin and tilted his head up. He brought his lips downward to kiss at the other’s left cheek just below his eye.

Kaneki hadn’t expected something so gentle and he took a second for him to find his words, “K-Kishou?”

“ . . . Don’t you hate me, Kaneki?” Kaneki could only tell he was crying because he was shaking. The water falling from his hair and around his face hid what was falling from his eyes. Arima surprised even himself. Tears? When was the last time he’d cried?

“ _Haise_ , please,” Kaneki insisted. He wanted to remain Haise in Kishou’s eyes assuming that made Kishou happy. “And no, . . . I feel _everything_ for you . . .” Kaneki ghosted his fingers against Arima’s hips. It was true that he’d never seen Arima cry, either. He wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Everything?” Arima slipped his fingers into his hair and pulls the younger male’s black bangs back away from his face. He rests his forehead to his as Kaneki continues.

The half-ghoul closed the distance between their lips to place a single kiss to the other’s wet lips, “Love.” Another. “Hate.” Again. “Fear.” And finally, “Pity.”

Arima’s hands fall to Kaneki’s hips and Kaneki wipes at his own tears before reaching to cup the other’s cheeks“You’re the only one who does . . . who ever has.”

Kaneki had done more than witnessed Kishou’s loneliness during his dream as Haise, “I know that.”

“You can’t stay.” As though a curse had been broken, every word Kishou spoke was thick with emotions he’d never before revealed. He could no longer hide what Haise- what their relationship had meant to him.

“I know that, too.” Kaneki was gentle and patient with the change he witnessed in Kishou, and he tenderly stroked his cheek as he watched the reaper transform into a human.

“Haise, I never-” He never what? He never wanted to hurt him? He never wanted things to come to this? He never thought he’d remember? He never thought they’d become like this? Or, he never thought he’d fall in love?

“I know that’s true- more than anything else.” Kaneki gave a somber smile, his eyes tired but understanding. It seemed he had decided on Arima’s own meaning himself, because he replied with a quiet, “Thank you.”

Arima, or this person that is human that is left in the monster’s wake, trembled as he embraced the half-ghoul once more, “You’re thanking me?” He had never understood the depth of his feelings until now. Haise was- he was-

Kaneki closed his eyes, his kakugan receding as he sunk into Kishou’s arms- arms he’d never be allowed to feel safe in again, “You respected me from the beginning. You cared for me soon after. You grew to love me. Genuinely. So, thank you.”

Kaneki pulled away kissed him a final time; it meant the relationship between the two of them would never be the same again. It meant that their label as _‘lovers’_ was gone.

“I have to go.” Kaneki’s gray eyes spoke apologies, but Arima didn’t hear them.

Kishou can feel himself mentally falling apart, his heart shattering, and the feeling is so foreign to him that he doesn’t know how to respond. Never. Never before had he loved someone like this and now-

Kaneki had already left him alone in the shower when he whispered to the empty spaces left in his lover’s wake, “The dream is over.”

He heard the latch on the door first, and in seconds, he’d sprinted from the shower to the front door. Kaneki hadn’t opened it all the way quite yet, and when he witnessed Kishou behind him, he closed it once more. Seeing Arima like this actually brings the smallest of smiles to Kaneki’s lips. He can’t help it. He felt happy to know that someone could care this much for him; he was happy that his first love- the first man he’d given himself to- would remember him fondly. Kaneki walked up to the other’s dripping body and kissed him a final time, and this time, it was passionate but short. He can feel his resolve to leave growing short even if he knows that this goodbye would come soon if it did not come today. He couldn’t stay; leaving was inevitable.

“Good morning, Kishou.”

Kaneki was gone.

Arima found his towel and wrapped it around his waist. After a moment of staring it down, he grabbed the one Haise would use and brought it to his nose and inhaled. He didn’t expect it to feel like this. He’d lived through so much but this-? This was painful, and the worst part was that it felt like it was his fault. Physical pain was caused by others. There was a source outside of himself, but this-? He’d heard of the connection between the mind and body; he was aware of it enough that he could typically continue fighting even when he felt pain, but he’d never inflicted pain on himself. That’s what _‘heartache’_ was? What he was feeling now was _‘heartbreak’_?

“Good morning, Kaneki Ken.”

Once the tears began again, they did not cease

He’d woken up from the dream. For just over two years, his life meant something, and he was happy. He had something that he loved, something that was precious to him, and that something, that person- Haise- he loved him in return. But that was over now, and the reality he woke up to was that he was nothing more than a tool for the CCG to wield at will.   
Haise was accepting his reality and making the most of it by making a path for himself.  
What was Arima accomplishing if he went on like this? Now that he had known happiness together with Haise, how could he go back to the same reality he’d once lived without him?

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Feedback? Comments? Head pats? Thank you in advance!


End file.
